


Second Husband

by dragon_temeraire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Human Jackson Whittemore, M/M, Multi, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 20:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15518253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: “You know, in twenty years, I will be Lydia’s second husband,” Stiles says grandly.“What’s going to happen to her first husband?” Jackson asks suspiciously.“Nothing,” Stiles says, smiling. “Maybe by then you’ll like me as much as she does.”





	Second Husband

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an anon prompt on tumblr! I realized I hadn’t written any poly fluff in ages, so I figured I’d go for it.

 

He knows he probably shouldn’t say it. It’s late, he’s tired, and it’s been a nice evening with two people he really cares about. He probably shouldn’t mess that up.

He says it anyway.

“You know, in twenty years, I will be Lydia’s second husband,” he says grandly.

“What’s going to happen to her first husband?” Jackson asks suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Stiles says, smiling. “Maybe by then you’ll like me as much as she does.”

He makes his escape from their apartment after that, managing to catch the perplexed look on Jackson’s face before he’s out the door.

The whole drive home, he wonders if Lydia will be mad that he put his intentions out there. But he’s been pining for them for years, and he just wanted both of them to be clear on _exactly_ where he stood.

And if they tell him they’re not interested, he can start trying to move on.

He hopes he doesn’t have to, though.

 

*

 

The fact that Lydia hasn’t called or texted him since that night is very telling. Clearly, he’s in some trouble, and Jackson’s probably freaked out. But he’s not sure what she’s going to do about it, either.

Still, he’s busy studying for mid-terms, so he tries to put it out of his mind and not stress too much. He can’t afford to fail a class, and what happens with Jackson and Lydia is out of his hands now, anyway. He has to let it go.

Then, late Friday night, just when he’s just thinking about dragging himself to bed, there’s a noise at his apartment door. It’s less of a knock and more of a _thump_ , and Stiles feels a tingle of unease.  

Either it’s a terrible burglar, or—

Jackson nearly falls in on him when he yanks the door open. And even if he hadn’t slurred out, “Hi, Stiles,” the smell of alcohol alone would have clued him in on Jackson’s drunkenness.

“Hey,” Stiles grits out, looking up and down the hallway for signs of anyone else out there—like Lydia—before wedging his shoulder under Jackson’s arm and dragging him inside. He manages to keep Jackson from ending up on the floor, and gets him seated on the couch despite Jackson’s lack of cooperation.

When he’s sure Jackson is going to _stay_ there, he goes to shut and lock the front door. “You’re not a teenager anymore, Jackson,” he says on his way back. “I thought you were done getting drunk like this.”

“I’m twenty-three, I’m not that old,” Jackson protests. “But tonight, I—I was just thinking about you.” He tips his head back against the couch, sighs. “You and Lydia together, really.” His eyes flick briefly Stiles’ direction. “She talks about you, you know. A lot.”

Stiles sits down tentatively next to Jackson. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he says lightly, patting Jackson’s thigh. “And I didn’t intend to drive you to drink with my little confession, either.”

But Jackson continues, undeterred. “She likes you. She liked _being_ with you, even though it was only supposed to be,” he waves his hand dramatically, nearly hitting Stiles in the face, “a little casual fling, or whatever. I know she’d take you back, and I—”

Stiles waits for the rest of that sentence, but it doesn’t come. “Jackson, you know I’m not trying to break up your relationship, right?” he asks, trying to be reassuring, but he can’t help thinking _I’m just trying to wedge my way into it_. “And I gave you a twenty-year head start, man. Fair warning and everything. Besides, you guys aren’t even married yet. So you _really_ don’t have to worry, especially because you don’t even like me—”

“I do, though,” Jackson interrupts, sitting up straight and trying to look stern, before promptly slumping down against Stiles. “That’s the problem,” he mutters, lips brushing against Stiles’ neck. “I do like you, and so does Lydia, so there’s no real reason for us _not_ to—but I don’t know what I’m doing, Stiles. I’ve never been with a guy before.”

“What, really?” Stiles blurts. “Not even Danny?”

“Turns out I’m really _not_ his type,” Jackson slurs, then nuzzles deeper against Stiles’ neck. “You’re really comfy. I want to stay here.”

Stiles has to fight his grin. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says, then mutters to himself, “But are you really into me, or is that just the alcohol talking?” He doesn’t want to get his hopes up too much.

“’Course I meant it,” Jackson grumbles, and it makes Stiles startle. He’d thought Jackson had fallen asleep. “So you should really cut back on that, uh, twenty year plan.” Then he snuggles back in and goes quiet and limp, letting out a contented sigh.

Stiles indulges himself for a few moments, running his fingers through Jackson’s hair and kissing his cheek before wiggling out from under him. He makes sure Jackson is in a comfortable position, and leaves a bottle of water for him before grabbing his phone.

“Your drunk boyfriend is here,” he says, as soon as Lydia answers.

“I know,” she says, sounding a little smug. “We had drinks at Hop Scotch tonight.”

“But you hate that place,” Stiles objects.

“I do, but it’s right across the street from your apartment,” she explains, and Stiles begins to understand her scheme. “I figured if you really were interested in being with us, you should at least get a taste of Jackson at his worst.”

“I went to high school with him, I’ve seen him at his worst,” Stiles says wryly. “Besides, he wasn’t that bad tonight, just kind of cuddly and honest.”

“Really?” Lydia says, sounding genuinely surprised. “He’s more comfortable with you than I thought he’d be. Maybe he _does_ have a crush on you.”

“I have no doubt,” Stiles says, grinning. “He just came right out and told me. And he seemed okay with the idea of all of us becoming…something together.” Then he has to fight back a yawn. It’s way too late to be having this conversation.

“Maybe we should all get together and talk about that,” Lydia says thoughtfully.

“Tomorrow. When we’re all sober and rested,” Stiles says firmly.

“Of course. Have a good night,” Lydia says. “And by the way, Jackson likes to be kissed in the morning, it helps him wake up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stiles says neutrally.

Lydia makes a little noise of confirmation, then hangs up.

Stiles stares at his phone for a long moment, his brain sleepily trying to process the idea that he might get everything he’s been wanting, before he gives up and heads for bed.

 

*

 

He wakes up at some point in the night to the sensation of his bed moving, and blinks his eyes open to find a dark shape lifting up his covers.

“It’s just me,” Jackson says, sliding in next to him. “Thanks for the water, I feel a lot better. I was just getting kind of cold out there.”

Stiles winces, realizing he could have left Jackson with a blanket. Jackson’s minty fresh breath wafts over him as he settles in close, meaning he found the spare toothbrush Stiles left out for him. He idly wonders if _he_ should move to the couch, but then Jackson makes a soft, content noise as he snuggles up against Stiles’ side, and Stiles suddenly can’t bring himself to go anywhere.

He doesn’t expect to be able to sleep with Jackson’s unfamiliar weight pressed against him, but to his surprise he drifts right off.

 

*

 

Jackson is still asleep when Stiles wakes in the morning, so he cautiously eases out from under him and heads for the kitchen. He’s halfway through a cup of coffee when Jackson takes the chair next to him, scooting close enough to drape himself across Stiles’ back, cheek nuzzling against his shoulder.

“You really are comfy,” Jackson says in a half-asleep sort of way.

“Apparently,” Stiles says mildly, setting his mug down on the table. He dips his head and turns just far enough to be able to catch Jackson’s lips with his own.

Jackson makes a pleased sound, sitting up a little straighter. By the third kiss he’s looking far more awake, and Stiles is very much enjoying the soft contact of Jackson’s lips. He could do this all morning.

“I see you took my advice,” Lydia says smugly, and Stiles startles hard.

He’d forgotten he’d given her a key to his apartment, because she’s never used it. She’s been waiting for the opportune moment, apparently.

“Um, yeah,” Stiles says, watching Lydia pull out a chair and sit across from them, looking as beautiful and composed as ever.

She clearly hadn’t had much to drink last night, unlike Jackson.

“You boys have a nice night?” she asks sweetly, and looks pointedly at Jackson.

When Stiles glances his way, he’s surprised to see a blush on Jackson’s cheeks. He’d never really imagined Jackson to be the blushing type. Especially because they hadn’t done _anything_ except some cuddling and sleepy morning kissing.

“I did,” Jackson says, clearing his throat awkwardly. “It was really nice.”

“Good,” Lydia says, folding her hands together as she looks at them both seriously. “Jackson, would you like to date Stiles?”

Jackson’s eyes dart between him and Lydia, like it’s some sort of test. “Yeah,” he says firmly. “I would.”

Lydia nods. “And I’m very sure Stiles would like to date _you_. I already know he’d like to date me,” she says, smirking.

Stiles can’t argue with any of that. And apparently, neither can Jackson.

“So, that’s settled,” Lydia says with the ruthless confidence Stiles so admires. “Stiles, I think you should spend the rest of the weekend with us at our apartment. It can be a trial run. We can see how we all fit together.”

Stiles is definitely not going to turn down a weekend with her and Jackson, especially when he’s pretty sure things will go well. And right now, the promise of a possibility is all he needs.

“I’ll pack a bag,” he says, and doesn’t miss the way Jackson and Lydia both smile.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come by and prompt me/talk to me [ on tumblr](http://dragon-temeraire.tumblr.com/).


End file.
